Don't You Disappear (The Rose)
by LeoJin
Summary: Kim Woosung, a bartender at a cafe in Seoul, goes missing.
1. Just A Start

The tapping of rain on roof shingles, only to clank on pipes. Wind whistling through the tree leaves and forcing branches out of the way. Lightning dancing across the sky that wows the eyes of someone who could be merely passing by. However, there is no one except for a young boy. The rain transforms into fire, burning down trees and houses. The grass has smoke coming from it, only to distinguish moments later once it burns to the ground. The fire is like the domino effect. Something catches on fire, goes out, then something else begins to perish in heated agony.

All food is gone and houses are in shambles plus in no condition for someone to live in. They've turned to ashes, like bones.

The young boy slowly dragged his feet through the ashes where the grass and flowers used to be. He searched his surroundings for something, anything, besides ash. His eyes fell around a group of people standing in the distance. As he walked closer to them, he began to realize they weren't just people but his family and friends. His mother stood in the middle of the group with her arms outstretched toward him. Calling him despite not opening her mouth. He sprinted towards her and fell into her arms.

The boy spoke, his voice muffled.

"Is it over?" he hugged his mother tighter. "Will these horrible nightmares end?" He pushed her away and put a hand to his burning throat. Looking up, he saw that she wasn't there anymore. He looked down. Ash covered his feet and he fell to the ground and scooped the substance into his hands. Looking around, he saw that the rest of his family and friends had another transformed into lifeless ash. Warm tears trickled down his face.

He stared at the ash in his palms as a gust of wind blew them away like dust. He looked up with tear-filled eyes. Around him, blackness sprinted towards him. He shot up and started to dash away. His legs like soggy noodles in a pot of boiling water restricted him from running quickly away. He tripped and slid against the dry earth. The skin on his knees and elbows peeled off and bled. His left ankle screamed in pain. He curled into a small ball, sobbing uncontrollably.

His heartbeat and pounded hard in his eyes. The boy let out a painful scream however, it was inaudible.

Kim Woosung had woken with dry crusty eyes. He felt his cheeks, the right one a little wet. He quit crying not too long ago.

The boy could not stand the thought of losing the ones he loved. Without them, he felt like an empty peanut shell. Well, it wasn't like he didn't feel like that already. But he would feel like the walls of shell were slowly being scraped off until there were only crumbs left.

He sighed a heavy and shaky breath. An obnoxious beeping came from Woosung's alarm clock next to him. He unplugged the clock completely, watching the bright red numbers disappear and then reappear a minute later when he plugged it back in. It was broken, the snooze nor stop button had refused to work a few months before. It was a shame, really, his best friend, Jaehyeong bought it for him for his birthday.

" _So you get to work on time," Jaehyeong had said smirking. "You're late to everything."_

Woosung worked at The Aura, a petit cafe in Seoul that barely got any attention. He was a bartender there, making coffee, smoothies, typical cafe stuff. He required to have a uniform of course: an apron, black dress pants, a white t-shirt, and black leather shoes. It was all provided by the cranky owner: Isuma Nils.

Isuma's eyes made it seem that he was furiously sleeping. He has wrinkles layered upon wrinkles. He was so skinny that when he did any kind of action you could see pieces of skin wobble around. His temper made everything ten times worse. He would always be in a fiery rage at anyone or anything. He wore a deadly frown on his face and never smiled. In fact, Woosung's never seen him smile for the most part.

Woosung climbed out of bed groggily and got ready for work. As he was about to leave, he turned back and took his daily pill. Of course, he couldn't forget that, could he? The medicine helped with insomnia. He had trouble getting to sleep plus during that time his mind often wandered a little too far for his liking. He started to take the pill around two months ago, against anyone's will. Despite knowing the situation was possibly severe, he didn't want to be a burden to his friends or family. A doctor had informed Woosung that he was required to take them everyday for three months; by then he could be cured of insomnia entirely. Insomnia was only treatable from what Woosung understood, but in this case, he just did what he thought was best for himself. He also convinced himself that no one would discover these pills or that he had insomnia.

It was mildly cold in February, the tree were still bare and some began to bud. There was fog when you exhaled and the cold would bite at the tips of noses and ears. Woosung wrapped a large red wool scarf around his neck, protecting him from the bitter cold. However, he still felt as if he was freezing to death. His fingers were numb and his ears were stinging. The bus stop was a mile away, and the walk there was torturous. The stop was next to a library with giant stone lions sitting triumphantly at the front of the building. They were like gargoyles sitting on top of a cathedral. Woosung would visit the library every now and then when he was bored and had nothing to do. He would check out millions of books only to forget to return them. So, he had a lot of fees.

Woosung gazed tiredly at the library entrance as he waited for the bus. By the time five or so minutes had passed, a young woman swayed out of the building carrying a large stack of textbooks. She'd constantly look around the books to see where she was going, cautious of every step she took. As she cocked her head to the side she noticed Woosung and had attempted to wave. Forgetting she was carrying textbooks, she ended up dropping them and collapsing to the ground. Woosung winced when she had crashed to the ground. He looked both ways, and when he knew that cars weren't coming, he jogged across the street. As he jogged, there was a massive wind that made him tear up unintentionally. He wiped his eyes and approached the woman and assisted her in gathering up the books.

"Sorry," she mumbled, keeping her face down so Woosung couldn't see her. Her voice was strangely familiar, like someone he had met recently. They stacked the books up on top of each other. Woosung saw that they all related to nursing and medicine. He took half of the books off the stack and stood.

"Shall I help you?" he asked, shifting so that he leaned on his right foot. The woman looked up. Smooth, Asian eyes like a half moon, and a bit too much foundation. Her skin was patchy and she wore circular glasses without lenses. Her hair was pulled into a messy bun. A strand of hair fell from her head and covered her left eye. She stuck it behind her ear.

"Woosung?" she said, surprised. Honorifics. She gathered the other stack of books and shot up. "No, no, no it's. It's fine sir let me take these." She took a step forward and reached past her stack to take the one Woosung was holding. Woosung took a step backwards. They both stood there silently. The silence was unbearable.

"Aren't you supposed to be at work, Bo?" Woosung said, breaking the silence and repositioning the books so they didn't fall from his arms. "You have training." Bo sighed and looked at her feet, nodding slowly.

"Sorry, sir," she said solemnly. Looking up, she noticed something in the distance. "Is that yours?" she pointed upwards and past Woosung. She was pointing at a tree. Woosung spun around. Stuck in the tree was scarf. The way it was stuck made it look like a sword that was stabbed in a warrior's chest. It swung wildly in the harsh breeze. Woosung exhaled sharply, it must've fallen off on his way to help or. Or more specifically, blown off without him noticing.

"No," he lied, turning back to Bo. "It's not. Come on." He walked off, Bo following behind.

"Sir, please wait!" she yelled after. Woosung didn't answer her, and let her trail behind.

They got to work half and hour later. The Aura was fairly small and had a few customers early that morning. Some sipped coffee or hot chocolate while typing away on their laptop. Once Woosung and Bo approached the doors, Isamu appeared from the shadows. Woosung shivered.

Woosung got a strong whiff of coffee, a smell he definitely couldn't get used to. Cakes and other pastries were lined up in a glass case. There were cute tiny signs that would inform you of what they were and host much they cost. If Isuma was out and Woosung was on break, Woosung would often sneak pastries back with him to the break room and eat them in a corner by himself.

"You're late," he said grumpily. Insamu tapped his fingers rhymically on a nearby table. The customer sitting at the table quickly gathered his belongings and ran out of the cafe. Woosung bit his lower lip and approached Isamu. He set the textbooks down on the table. Bo followed and did the same. Isamu gazed at the two in the eyes intensely. Woosung felt his heart skip a beat each time Isamu looked at him directly. Woosung tensed up.

Isamu nodded to the books."What are these for?" he picked one up and flipped through the pages. "The History of Medicine." he tossed the book back on the table and crossed his arms. A customer watched from behind a book, their eyes just peeking above the book. Woosung instantly noticed they were a regular. Any old lady who always ordered the same boring coffee and read the same boring book. It was like she had nothing better to do. However, when she had friends in, she was the queen of the week's gossip. Woosung attempted to ignore her and turned his attention back to Isama, who was now scolding Bo as if she were his daughter coming back home late at night past curfew. Bo was leaning back a bit with her shoulder hunched and her hands clasped together. The tips of her knuckles were white.

"...and that's why you shouldn't study in the medical field! Got it?" Isuma said sternly. He stood there for several moments before Bo was able to reply.

"I understand," she said, voice and hung hung low. Woosung felt like there was a hole in his stomach watching her being disappointed and filled with shame. Damn this empathy, he thought. Isuma glared at the two of them.

"Now get to work," he barked. After walking behind the counter he turned to Woosung. "You're staying late tonight. Make sure to lock the doors." Isama disappeared into a backroom: his office. Woosung sighed.

"Geez, can he not get any more strict. I was going somewhere tonight." Lie. He wasn't going anywhere. He just planned on staying home and binge watching a new show on Netflix until his eyes felt like falling out. Wrapping in a blanket with his fan on high and volume on max. Always shipping the first two people he sees, and secretly hoping it would be canon. And even if it wasn't true love, he would believe the ship would one day sail off into a sunset. And then burn in flames because he would soon find a new OTP.

Woosung walked to and behind the counter to gather coffee beans. He set them over by the grinder and turned to Bo. "Ready for your first day of training?" he said,motioning her to come back behind the counter. She followed and hence, Woosung started training her the fundamentals of making coffee. She was a cautious yet clumsy worker. Often dropping cups, pens, and the coffee beans. When grinding the beans, she would cover her ears and tune out completely and left the beans to over-grind. Woosung found that she would have to wait a month or two before handling customers since she would always stutter when even talking to him. He also found it difficult to work with her, however, he looked forward to having her on shift with him. Because then, he wasn't left alone.


	2. tratS A tsuJ

_Street lights aligned in a row with flickering light bulbs and the still full moon that laid in the sky. Puddles reflected the moon and the rain that fell off of the tips of trees plopped into the puddles, causing them to ripple. It was like an never ending staircase that keep on going and going and you couldn't find a way to stop going up (or down respectively). A blanket of fog covered the area in front of the boy as he turned into a back alley leaving work. The boy imagined werewolves, leaping out from behind a totally-not-suspicious bush in the alley way that he walked through. It was a shortcut, close to where he lived and one that he found after a year of working at the cafe. He stopped in his tracks when he saw the bush. It was odd, that's for sure. A bush. Green, filled with life in a dusty and dark alleyway. It too dim for a plant to grow in, there wouldn't be enough sunlight and the only water it would get was from raindrop sliding off of the roofs of buildings. A cold drop of water tapped his head, which caused him to snap out of the dream-like state he was in. He rubbed the top of his head only to realize it wasn't just a small drop of water. His hair was soaked, and he cursed at himself for not realizing how much water had dripped onto him. He looked up, and watched as rain fell from invisible clouds and tap on the concrete like percussion. He caught a glimpse of himself in a puddle and ran his fingers through his light brown hair. Shadows under his droopy eyes gave only proof that he barely got any sleep the night, or past nights, before. The ends of his hair were wet and looked like they were glued together._

 _He turned to leave but as he was about to take a step forward someone in a black trenchcoat blocked him, arms outstretched in a T position. The boy turned the other way, but found himself trapped as another person stood before him blocking the way. He looked back at the first person. Despite the clothing being black, the boy could still see where rain drenched the shoulders and sides of the coat. The person also wore a black fedora, like ones in spy movies that the boy often watched as a kid. They took a step forward toward the boy, and the boy taking a step back. Another step forward and another back. Another forward, another back. This cycle went on and on until the person flicked the fedora on their head so the boy could see their eyes. Green eyes. But not like a normal green. It was bright and mesmerizing like a stopwatch swaying back and forth. Almost, hypnotizing. The boy couldn't decide what to do. He wanted to turn around and run, never come back to this alley again, but the other side of him wanted to stay and see what would happened if he waited longer. But he couldn't really go anywhere now could he? He demanded his brain to let him turn around, but he was stuck, one foot behind the other and hands curled into fists tightly, staring at the green eyed person in front of him._


End file.
